peppermints
by achieving elysium
Summary: In a world taken over by an epidemic apocalypse, Piper finds herself running to where she's heard is a safe haven; New York. Along the way, she meets Jason, a good-looking survivor she can't leave behind. Travelling, Piper can't help but count the days until they reach NY. And as she finds out, it takes 131 days to fall in love and find a new family. AU. mortal!Jason/Piper. PJFC.


**peppermints  
**achieving elysium

* * *

_day 72_

Unfortunately for Piper, a teenage girl cannot live on peppermints and Tic Tacs forever. She wishes she could, but as she is sucking on her twenty-seventh peppermint of the day, her stomach growls loudly. Okay, she'll admit it, she is damn hungry and will die from starvation, most likely. If the plague doesn't get to her first, anyways.

The peppermint is really sweet, but the Tic Tacs, orange flavored, are kind of stale. She swirls the small candy around in her mouth while surveying her surroundings. She's on Baker Street, in some Southern state, maybe. Piper has taken so much time running that she doesn't even know where she is anymore. All she needs to do is survive.

The stink of death surrounds her, sickly sweet and all too familiar. All of a sudden, her hunger has disappeared, and she spits out the striped lump of candy onto the grass. From outside, the neighborhood looks normal; the houses are neatly lined up, mailboxes at the sidewalk, trees growing in front yards and abandoned lawn chairs scattered everywhere. But if she walks into a house, she'll smell death again, the silence too loud and too suffocating.

It's some sort of poison fog, scientists would say. It rose up from the sea, this strange, grey fog. Some say it's pollution. Some say it's from the sea animals. Whatever it is, it's deadly. One touch, one breath, and you fall sick, dying within days. It can advance from person to person as well.

Piper is trying to go to New York. There's supposedly a safe haven there. Most likely, she won't be able to make it. It's already been seventy-two days. There's no power. She washes the best she can in clean water. She has no qualms about stealing. It's do or die in this new world she lives in.

One house seems cleaner than the rest, the air around it more clear. Her heart pounds. Maybe she'll find something in this one. She ran out of water this morning, drinking the last drops and stuffing it in the small backpack on her back. She also has a few matches, candy, and some stolen clothes.

Her own home had been infected. Back in her old town, they thought burning down the infected places would stop it, but it didn't. She ran.

The door creaks open, and she breathes in, running her hands on the walls. No one died in here. She can feel it. The kitchen is well stocked, linen closet full of blankets, and in the basement are lots and lots of water jugs. It's wonderful.

She feeds herself and tucks herself in on a soft, green couch.

* * *

_day 73 _

"Holy shit!" Piper scrambles up and automatically, her hand goes to the knife she took from the kitchen yesterday. She poises it, ready to stab, when she sees it's just a boy no older than her, hands held up. She's staring, her eyes wide, chest heaving up and down.

There's a boy. In front of her. Alive. She licks her lips and keeps staring, making some sort of strangled sound. She hasn't seen a living human being since... since Day 32, she believes. She puts down the knife.

"You're-" She can't speak. "You- you're _real. _Oh, my holy motherfucking shit, you're _real." _He seems to have come to that conclusion as well, poking her like she's going to disappear at any moment. Then she suddenly feels awkward.

"Uh, is this your house? I'm sorry," she blabbers. "I thought, I mean, I haven't had real food in a while, and your house was open, I thought... I thought no one lived here, I swear, no one was here, and-" He regains his composure.

"It's- It's okay, I guess. I mean, I get it, do or die, right?" She nods breathlessly, then sits down hard and laughs. Then they're both laughing, because there are now two people who are fucking _alive, _and real, and people who can laugh and sing and dance. It's a while before either of them can stop.

"Jason," he says, extending his hand. She takes it firmly.

"Piper."

* * *

_day 75 _

She's on lookout when she sees it and screams. Black fog collects at the horizon, creeping closer. Already wisps of smoke are on the edge of the streets.

"Piper!" Jason yells, bursting into the room where she's staring out the window. She just points, and he grabs her arm and pulls, shaking her. "Come on, Pipes, we've gotta move, we've gotta move, you're gonna be okay, it's alright."

But she can't stop screaming, the images of dead bodies, piled up, of flames flickering at the sky, angrily eating up anything flammable. And then he shakes her again, and she looks into his blue eyes and grabs whatever she can carry. There's a car in the garage, a couple tanks of gasoline, and they've got supplies.

They'll make it. They _have _to.

* * *

_day 77 _

The car jostles from side to side. She holds on the best she can to the dashboard, and Jason, driving, grips the steering wheel so hard his knuckles are a pale white. She glances back, again, at Baker Street, her home of a meager five days. A long enough time to make a new friend, because now that she's found someone, she's not leaving him behind. He won't let her go, either.

They are desperate, and they'll probably die with two people to feed and take care of, but that's okay.

By the time they stop, the black fog is gone from sight. She hands him a bottle of water, carefully rationed, and tells him to sleep. She'll take first watch. He smiles wearily at her, and Piper can't help but notice how damn cute he is.

* * *

_day 79 _

It's scavenger time now. They stop in a city to park and restock. Even with the supplies, it's never a bad idea to keep collecting. The only way there is to survive.

She orders him to go to get more clothing, so they can either burn it for fire or use it for warmth, and after he does that, he should check for gasoline. She's going to go to a pharmacy and take medicines, all types, just in case. Then, she'll be looking for food, easy, canned things like corns and mashed-up carrots. She'll try to find some sort of giant pot to cook in, and of course, water.

Piper _does _end up getting a pot, and she fills it with food, antibiotics, and bottled water to make the trip easier. On the way back, she passes the sweets section and decides it wouldn't hurt to grab some chocolate. She'll take anything she can get these days, the little wonders like Skittles or gum.

A hour later, she reaches the rendezvous point with food, water, medicine, a big pot, chocolate, and room-temperature Sunkist. They drink it together, getting high (not really) on orange soda and the taste of sugar.

* * *

_day 84 _

It's almost been two weeks since she met Jason. They are a good pair; she, organized, he, knowledgable, she, keeping things in check, he, lightening the mood. He brings her a little Pokemon plush toy on Day 84, and watches her face light up. She used to love Pokemon.

It's Pikachu, and he's a little dirty, but she hugs him close to her chest before running to her friend and giving him a huge hug, and without thinking, a kiss on the cheek. It feels nice.

It feels like family, here on the road, with a Pikachu plush and a boy she feels like she's known forever.

* * *

_day 87 _

"Come on, Pipes, let loose." She shakes her head, arms wrapped around her knees. There's no _time _to be loose, no time to have fun. They need to move, move, move, keep moving. Doesn't he get that? The fire lights up their little circle, sparks jumping everywhere.

He grabs her arm and pulls her up, ignoring her screams of protest and the slap she manages to get his arm with. He's grabbing her hands, his large and warm, his eyes flickering in the firelight. She lets herself smile, and they dance around in circles, twirling and stepping on toes.

This is what it's like to _live, _she remembers. What it's like to feel _human. _

Piper thinks of her dad, who loved her so much, who got sick and told her to run away far from him. She remembers a time when he would pick her up, tickling her, or he would sing Christmas carols while making up half the words. And how those moments were the best.

So she does something she didn't think she would do; she lets go of reality for a night.

* * *

_day 93 _

The sunrise is beautiful. It's all pink and orange, her favorite colors. It lights up Jason's sleeping face in all the right places, and she has the sudden urge to draw him. She's a pretty good artist, and she likes the way he looks so peaceful now.

The past week has been hard. They ran out of gasoline, and there were no other cars around. They had to abandon ship, walking with whatever they could carry until they found bicycles, lying on the ground. Her legs are sore, her hands covered in blisters, and her hair is so tangled from wind that she wants to cut it all off.

So moving further away, still watching Jason, she cuts off her hair to below her ears, chopped and jagged, but lighter somehow. More free. _A new me, _she thinks. _Braver, better. I'm going to survive with Jason. I'm going to lift us up, not drag us down. _

She's even brave enough to sneak a kiss on the edge of Jason's lips. Piper can't help the butterflies that erupt in her stomach.

* * *

_day 100 _

They are both half-falling off of the bikes and hitting the ground with exhaustion. Everything _hurts. _She doesn't know if she can keep going, but she keeps the thought to herself. If she can't, then Piper will at least make sure that Jason can. Jason, her friend. Jason, her confidant. Jason, her love.

Finally, they stop, and with shaking hands, divide what is left of their food, sitting together on the side of the road and leaning into each other.

* * *

_day 103_

"It's been a hundred and three days." She doesn't know why she's saying that now, but Jason turns to her and listens. They both need a distraction from the aching loneliness and the aching bones.

"Since I ran away from home," she adds. Pikachu gazes at her, glassy eyes blank. "Dad told me to go to New York. He wouldn't stop. He was insane, the poison getting to his head, but somehow he managed to keep telling me to go to New York." And the sky is shattering, blue pieces falling to the ground around her. She's going to cry.

Piper hasn't been thinking about him. They were never particularly close, and it was those special times that they were that she treasures the most. He still loved her. She still loves him, somewhere deep inside of her. But it hurts, yet saying it out loud makes her feel better.

"And I would cry and beg him, _please, don't go. Don't die. Stay with me. _And he'd touch my face and call me brave, tell me I was exactly like my mother, that it was going to be okay because I was _strong. _I could _make it. _And we would stay up late, him sick and I well, and we'd talk about little things; the color of the night sky, the birds, about Mom, about summer camp and keepsakes, about necklaces and photographs and memories and everything-" Her voice breaks, and she _can't- _

He holds her softly as she cries.

* * *

_day 105 _

She finally drops from exhaustion one day. The sun is scorchingly hot. Her throat is too dry, and everything is spinning around too fast, getting mixed up with Jason's yells and blades of grass, and little neon stars that float around.

* * *

_day 106 _

Barely, she can hear him talking, telling her about what he likes about her or something, she thinks. No, the future. She catches a few words like _lasagna _and _Pikachu_, _rivers _and _big house, __married _and _dog, __children _and _mother_.

He would make a good dad, she thinks, before she slips back into darkness again.

* * *

_day 109 _

Water. There's something cool and clear being poured down her throat. She gasps and swallows, licking her lips and tongue dry. Another few drops.

Piper blinks, and there's Jason, giving her water a little bit at a time, his brow furrowed. He's staring at her, and she touches his face, begging for more. He stares for a moment, his mouth in a little 'o' shape.

"Piper," he murmurs, his face clearing. "You're okay." He gives her more water, helps her sit up and lets her lean against him heavily. She feels really dizzy, like she'd going to throw up, sort of like when she drank beer last year at a party to try it.

He's really comfy, and his skin is cool, unlike her feverish skin. He gives her more water and wraps an arm around her, whispering that he has her, and it's going to be okay now. Piper just obediently drinks and relaxes in his arms.

* * *

_day 112 _

She feels a lot better now. Every now and then, her friend will glance back at her, worried, but she feels great, actually. Sleep and water really broke her out of the fever/dehydration thing. And pills. Lots of swallowed pills.

They bike further, and there is no trace of the black, poisonous fog that follows them. She wonders what they will find in New York. A destroyed city? A safe haven? They will just have to find out. She doesn't think about that, really. Piper keeps repeating the snippets she heard days ago, when she was sick.

_He wants to marry me! And have children, _she repeats to herself. And for once, biking to their destination doesn't seem so tiring anymore. Not with the future hanging right there in front of her.

* * *

_day 120 _

"There," Jason says, pointing at a large fort in the distance. There is a giant wall around a big, glass dome, where people live, she guesses. That way, the fog can't get in.

"There," she repeats. She licks her lips and stares hungrily at the fort. There will be others there, she tells herself. There has to be.

There's enough food to last a week or so, which is good, because the place is so far away. New York is burned to the ground, so they run through falling ashes and building ruins. Jason trips, once, and she helps him up. They run, and Piper only focuses on their joined hands, the fort, and her breathing, in and out.

* * *

_day 131 _

Eleven days. It takes them eleven days, she thinks blearily. Loud voices alert her. She takes a numb step forwards, towards this giant wall, and people are hanging on the other side, over the top, with outstretched hands. They haul her up, pulling her over the wall. She is clapped on the back and spoken to. Her blood is buzzing; she is so excited, so _alive_ now, because there are other survivors who know how she feels and who will help her.

She's bone tired, half-dead from exhaustion and starvation, but she has never felt better than she feels right now.

Relief washes through her, a long-forgotten feeling, and she smiles. People take her appearance in, her choppy hair, her dark skin, her torn clothes, and they, too, smile kindly. And there's a celebration because there's more people who are living. She counts at least twenty. Twenty! They're all singing and laughing, and tears run down her face. And Jason's there, looking just as stunned, but she swings him around in a wild dance to the beating of her heart and the songs. Looking at the people here, she knows she has found a home. She can feel it, all the way down to her toes.

And when Jason looks at her and smiles, she can't help but press their lips together for the very first time. And he tastes like peppermints, the good kind, sweet but not overly so.

* * *

**Wow. Writing this was just... Wow. You have no idea how _fun _this thing was to write. The idea of an epidemic-apocalypse with no _zombies-_****I had to really use my imagination. I just kept thinking that zombies were too overdone, no zombies, and oh... Please don't use this idea. I'm too high on it. **

**Review! You like?**

_achieving elysium_


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